Stairway to Heaven
by DevilLlamaChan
Summary: Slight AU/Around Season 5: The Winchesters go to Texas! Their quest? To discover what really happened to a fellow hunter, with the aid of his odd teenage daughter. But nothing is what it seems... OFC/Raphael and Cas/Dean bromance fluff.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: **__Story is kind of AU, doesn't entirely follow the storyline exactly but just imagine it's set around the series 5 sort of time period. ^.^ I apologise if any of the characters from the TV show seem OOC, I tried my best! Haha. Couples are mainly Raphael/OFC, but may be slight Dean/Cas 'bromance' in the future. I have been editing this for so long, it's like my baby :') be gentle with it! Enjoy! :D_

**Prologue **

_Now, I'm not going to start this story with a 'once upon a time' spiel because unfortunately, this isn't a fairytale where a prince, and his trusty steed, rescue a damsel in distress after defeating the dragon, oh no. __**This**__ story is about two princes, two men and an Angel saving the world one evil bastard at a time. I'll leave it up to you to decide who the damsel of distress of this story is, as well as the task to identify the dragon. One thing I am sure of though, is that this story has one __**hell**__ of a steed… a Chevrolet Impala to be exact…_

A fair distance up in the sky, there is a place amongst the clouds.

No seriously there _is_, somewhere, a place which many of us believe to be real and existing. (Although a lot of us believe it to be ridiculous, and to put it bluntly, a load of crap.) Religious or not though, all of humanity hope for a place to go to after death and Heaven, a Kingdom within the clouds, is such a place. But, it's thought to be a sanctuary only for the Believers; the good people, the _religious_ ones. We can't prove that such a place exists nor can we prove it doesn't, so what we do is hope and pray. Which, to be brutally honest, is the only thing we can do.However, Heaven isn't all its cracked up to be. The Angels we expect to be: caring, gentle, loving souls sent to guide us, are really Soldiers of Heaven. Unfeeling, almighty beings that are so powerful they're kind of scary; or in the words of the Messiah, Dean Winchester, Angels are "dicks."

God is our almighty creator, the artist of the universe, and the King of Heaven. The Angels were his first creation, and the first batch of these supernatural hatchlings were called Archangels; the most powerful of all Heavenly creatures. Made from the purest grace. These particular Angels were born leaders, and soon became Superiors to all of the lower Angels and lowly creatures. (There is a point to all of this, it's just need-to-know background information. Bear with me.) Even though these 'super' beings were outstanding in power, compared to their counterparts, a similar trait all Angels shared was a slight birth defect. They didn't have a gender. Although despite this, some angels seemed more masculine, naturally strong; hence they were dubbed the term 'male' and, some of the others fell under the category, 'female.' Michael was the first Archangel and therefore the oldest of his brethren. He was then closely followed by Lucifer and his brothers, Raphael and Gabriel whilst many of the others arrived later.

Michael and Lucifer, as the oldest, were positioned in charge to manage Heaven as well as their own, shared, Garrison; which was their own squadron of Angels.Heaven is large and almighty, it needs order, and these Garrisons help to control all of Heaven's creatures.As well as Michael and Lucifer's Garrison there were three others groups. These were controlled by their brothers, Raphael, Gabriel and another Archangel called Zachariah. Every time an Angel was created, the small cherub was given to the most available Angel at present so it could be looked after, as God's too busy to look after every single baby. This Hierarchy made Angel life simpler, and also indicates where Castiel comes into the story… Ahem.

For a time Heaven was good, until God created the Earth and all its inhabitants which included us, the humans. Upon the birth, God ordered all of Heaven to love the humans more than they loved him, which was a lot… if you didn't know. Many obeyed obediently but some however, did not. Lucifer was the first one to disobey, he was outraged at the thought of worshipping the human _things _more than his Father. So he refused. To keep things stable and under control, Michael confronted his brother and soon enough, nearly all of Heaven had turned against each other, brother against brother. Many Angels joined in with Lucifer's revolt, much to the protest of the rest of the Garrisons, and many tried to stop the terrible events from unfurling any further. Still, _nothing_ could, or would, stop Lucifer's rage. Therefore the War of Heaven began not long after. Michael decided that enough was enough and Lucifer had, by this time, abused his post on Earth and condemned human souls to the downstairs place called Hell. These ex-humans became the first of the wicked Demons we all fear, and the most alarming thing was even some of the Angels who had joined Lucifer became demons themselves! So, Michael demanded that his brother face him and so Lucifer did, he called out his sinful plan before the battle commenced, like some kind of sick twisted soliloquy constructed of foul words by a sharp tongue. It seemed determined 'ol Lucy wanted to let all of Heaven know _they _were the ones in the wrong, and _he_ was right all along.With the first clash of Michael and Lucifer's swords, the raging war began.

Many Angels, Archangels, Cherubs and Demons were fatally injured and destroyed during just the first day of war. Amongst these lost ones were a couple of the most powerful and well known Archangels that we've heard of even within today's society. The mass amount of Angelic, and human, deaths wounded God like it would any other Father, so he commanded Michael to strike Lucifer down to the very Earth he despised. Michael couldn't disobey. So like a good soldier, he struck his brother off his plateau of pride and with a sound familiar to thunder, Lucifer fell and was cast out away from the love of his Father to be stored in a box. A _cage._ So that he could never, ever, bring harm and start havoc again on the beloved Earth where the human's God loved so dearly lived and breathed.

_So, my fellow reader, this is where we begin. Our tale unravelling word by word, as we focus on Heaven's part to play in the hellish Apocalypse that will no doubt end life on Earth as we know it._

_Unless a certain pair of brothers step in… _


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: **_I hope you liked my little teaser ;) I know you guys are probably like, "Shut up woman, give us Team Freewill!" But I will, just introducing my OFC and a little background story first. Hope you like my OFC, and you love her like I do, reviews are love, look after my baby! _

_Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Supernatural and our favourite boys, but I do own my OC's. Enjoy :)_

**Chapter x One**

_Dallas, Texas_

Mrs Reynolds knew she had her work cut out for her as soon as her latest client walked through the door. (It was like her brain had a built in radar.) She wasn't in the best of moods already considering she just wanted to retire, after working 30 years into the profession, but it seemed the world was against her that day. Her friend and boss, George, begging her to just take one more client, "One more Lisa, just one more?" He'd said, using his good looks to his advantage. She swore that if he wasn't so adorable with his big blue eyes, she would have kicked him where it hurts… but instead, she accepted like the idiot that she was. Although she had to admit, there was something about this new client of hers that made her feel kind of excited. An emotion that, sadly, she hadn't felt in _years_.

Her newest and, soon to be, last client had apparently breezed through all the other psychiatrists within the area, making their shiny Diplomas look like doodles drawn by bored children. According to George _she _was the girl's last hope, and what a girl she was… Her client thought she saw Angels. Real Angels. As in white robes and feathery wings, you know, the whole shebang. It seemed odd in her opinion, like most cases really, because the girl was very young. Just turned eighteen years old, and in her last year of college with a smart head on her shoulders and a bright future in the years to come. Her family background was not unusual. They were all born and bred Texans. She had a Mother, a Step Father and two younger Step Sisters. So Mrs Reynolds had no possible clue where the visions of 'Angels' came from. The girl's medical records were completely clean from mental illness. The only admittances into hospital were to fix a broken arm at the age of six and an operation to remove her tonsils at thirteen. Scanning through the girl's report, with careful eyes, Mrs Reynolds discovered that the girl's family Doctor had first recorded these "hallucinations" around a month ago, occurring near the time of her real father's death. The evidence laid out in front of her pointed towards Delusional Disorder, but it didn't seem to feel right… it just didn't seem to fit, like a square peg and a round hole.

Mrs Reynolds looked up from the girl's file towards her client who was sat, well, _slouched_, in the big leather chair in front of her desk; with a look of pure boredom on her youthful face. "Hello Miss," A quick glance at her report. "Fielding." The girl, however, didn't bother to look up to acknowledge her presence and opted to inspect her own fingernails instead. Mrs Reynolds coughed slightly in an attempt to gain her attention but still… nothing. The clock ticked slowly, almost smugly, as if it knew she was struggling already.

Mrs Reynolds looked back at the report to settle her annoyance before raising her voice, "Hello, Miss Fi-"

"I heard you the first time." Said a soft voice. She looked up startled at the tone of it. The hidden force behind the words odd for a voice so seemingly angelic; and one so young. Mrs Reynolds then found herself staring into pools of bright blue. They were the biggest bluest eyes she'd ever seen, feathered with deep black eyelashes, the girl's eyes swallowing her whole as she looked at them while they stared back stoically. It was like the girl was trying to stare straight through her, right deep down to her soul…freaky. Slightly unnerved, Mrs Reynolds felt that it would be a very long day. Damn George, damn her, damn everything. She just wanted to retire and relax with her husband for the rest of her days. She felt she'd earned it after all the people she'd helped over the years. But, the shock was quickly replaced by professionalism as she leaned over her desk to have a better look at the Fielding child. The girl looked normal enough, but she knew all too well that sometimes the craziest of patients looked more normal than most.

"Okay, Miss Fielding. Would you like to start?" She asked politely. She laced her fingers together and placed them on the desk, her face blank with the intent of listening. The girl's eyes flickered away for a second and then found her again as she also leant forward.

"Okay." The girl began. "First of all, there is no point in me being here Lisa." Now that was strange. She hadn't mentioned her first name to the girl, or her parents. Unless she was more observant than most clients… but then when she thought about it, her full name was more than likely on her certificates. She calmed again. "This is just a waste of everyone's time and money." Her patient shifted in her seat as she sat up with a straight back, determined to prove that she was _not _crazy and that she did _not _need any help. Mrs Reynolds, or Lisa, had seen it all before and wasn't impressed. Slipping her reading glasses off her nose and onto the top of her head, she sat back once more. Her big office chair making her nerves, at the so far odd situation, fade slightly as the strong support lent her some courage.

"Is that so?" She asked. "But your parents don't see this as a waste of time. They only want what's best for you and they think my help will benefit you." The girl scoffed distastefully and looked away to focus on a hidden spot on the wall, shaking her head slightly as she did so.

"I don't need help." Replied Miss Fielding fiercely, before she turned to look back at her. "And I'm certainly _not _crazy."

"That's why I'm stepping in Miss Fielding. To assist you, and make sure your mental health is at it's best." Replied Mrs Reynolds, a little shaken at the intense blue eyed stare. "Now, these hallucinations-" Another scoff sounded out from the bored girl in front of her, so she raised an eyebrow curiously at the noise and patiently waited for an explanation.

"Hallucinations? Right…" The girl shook her head, a twisted smile on her lips as she drawled the 'r' sound. Her Texan background shining through like the sun's rays outside the window, whilst the emerald green leaves of a nearby tree caressed the window panes. Her accent was smooth and sweet like honey. Each word sounding richer than the last as it escaped her pink lips. But it wasn't a strong accent, because her words were easier to understand than maybe other Texans, nevertheless it was there. Hiding.

"May I continue?" The girl waved her hand at her, indicating her to proceed, so she did. "Thank you. Now, these hallucinations you've been having. Your Father tells me you see Angels?"

Silence settled over the office.

"He's not my Dad." Miss Fielding whispered steely, as she looked away back to the same spot she was staring at earlier. A heated glare tainting her baby blues.

Mrs Reynolds blinked in surprise at the venom in her voice. "Okay…" She began slowly, as she tread cautiously around the subject. "Your _Step_-Father told me you've been seeing Angels. Is this true?" Her nerves returned at full speed as her question seemed to fall on deaf ears. Speaking with the young woman was like walking on thin ice, one slip, one small crack and you were submerged in an icy prison of cool anger. The girl's blue eyes began to overwhelm her again with their freakish negative glow. Miss Fielding didn't turn to look at her as she answered,

"If I say yes, will you think I'm crazy?"

"At this moment in time, we can't be sure. But you need to co-operate with me first so we can get to the bottom of this." Replied Mrs Reynolds. The girl still continued to stare in that same direction before she slowly turned her head to look at her, pinning her once more with her strong blue eyes.

"Co-operate?" She smirked. "Fine. I can see Angels, okay? The long white robes, everythin'." Mrs Reynolds nodded at her, encouraging her to carry on. "You happy now, Lady?"

"My name is-"

"Lisa. Yeah, yeah. I know." Miss Fielding interrupted. "What with all these Diplomas you have decorating the place. You _know _normal people just use wallpaper?"

She stared at the young lady in surprise, it had been the most she'd said to her throughout the meeting. Not to mention the _second_ time she addressed her by her first name, although her suspicion on where the girl had gotten it from was confirmed. However, the behaviour she was showing was common. The girl was becoming defensive and was putting on fake bravado, suggesting that she was either extremely bitter about he situation or, she'd had a lot of influence from her Father during her upbringing. The slight masculinity of her actions confirmed it, as they seemed quite unlike a Lady should behave. (Considering the way her Mother's actions had been when they'd met for the first time.) She made a couple of notes on the girl's file before looking back up into her blue eyes. She seemed to be adjusting to their hue, a colour that didn't seem possible for normal eyes. "Please address me as Mrs Reynolds." The girl just smirked again. "Okay. Can you see them now?" The girl's eyes briefly flickered over to the spot she had been staring at earlier before she looked back at her.

"He. I can just see _him _now." She muttered, going back to inspect her fingernails.

"What does he look like?"

"Pfft…What do you think? He's an _Angel._" Mrs Reynolds placed her glasses back on the bridge of her nose as she wrote a few more notes down. Upon looking back up the girl had reverted back to staring at her hands, still seemingly interested in her nails… most likely her regular habit when fidgeting.

"What is he doing?" A part of her becoming more intrigued as the girl looked at her again, looking bored once more.

"He's just stood in here. Watching." But as soon as the answer left Miss Fielding's lips her blue eyes widened in surprise transforming her face as she turned back to the spot she was staring at earlier, nodding slightly to the thin air. Blue eyes blank, her face falling to an expression of awe. "He's talking to me."

"What is he saying?" Asked Mrs Reynolds, excitement taking over her as she leant forward in her chair. Watching the girl as she listened to the "Angel."

"Shhh…" The girl hushed softly without taking her eyes off that one, same, spot. "He's…he's, talkin' about you Lisa…" A tone of wonder in her voice as she turned to look at her briefly before quickly looking away once more towards the spot, as if she couldn't stop staring for one second like her eyes were magnetised to what she was seeing.

"What is he saying?" Repeated Mrs Reynolds, her heart beating quick in her chest. Fascination pumping liquid fire around her system. She knew it couldn't possibly or logically be real, but it was exciting nonetheless.

"He, he's telling me Psychiatrists say that… One out of f-four people are…" Stuttered the girl, as if her lips were stumbling over the words she was trying to say. "…m-mentally ill…" The suspense was driving hercrazy, her curiosity not yet satisfied.

"Yes?" She enquired, although now slightly confused.

"Ch-check three friends… If they're ok, you're it. " A sigh escaped the girl's lips, the look of awe now gone and her voice back to normal. "His sense of humour is _so_ bad."

Mrs Reynolds blinked once, twice, then three times as the girl turned to look at her with a sly grin. Her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "What…?" Asked Mrs Reynolds, puzzled at the situation. Miss Fielding laughed then. In fact, she laughed so hard her cheeks darkened to a deep shade of pink as she clutched her sides, her girlish laughter turning into a slight howl like a wolf when it's watching the moon.

"Your face!" She exclaimed, as her laughter slowly calmed then turned into giggling. Her whole facial expression screamed, 'You've been punked!' Then, only then, did Mrs Reynolds realise she had been completely and utterly fooled, tricked, and duped by a _student. _A girl more than half her age. Anger raged through her veins as the girl laughed again, even harder than before, at the sudden realisation that was no doubt on her face in plain sight.

"That's it." She snapped as she stood up from her chair abruptly. Miss Fielding's grin widened as Mrs Reynolds stormed out of the room hurriedly, slamming the wooden office door behind her with a loud bang. She was a professional dammit! She didn't need to put up with this crap! Damn George, damn her, damn everything! Everyone in the foyer jumped as she stomped away from her office, her high heels clanking sharply on the marble floor as she marched towards the girl's parents. What was she thinking taking a case like this? What a waste of time! The two adults looked up, slightly startled as she stopped in front of them with her hands on her hips. Her face like thunder. Her cheeks red as she puffed out heavily, her nostrils flaring, as her anger grew and grew. She began to explain to them, words tumbling out of her mouth hurriedly as the Fieldings faces fell and they became more and more furious at what they heard. Mrs Reynolds couldn't stop the feeling of satisfaction as she watched the two adults discuss what to do about their wayward daughter. The girl was in deep trouble now.

And by Heaven, she _deserved_ it.

_**xxx**_

Meanwhile, left inside the office, Miss Fielding couldn't stop the little giggles escaping her mouth every so often as she thought back to Lisa's reaction… Her grin still firmly in place on her face. She turned to the left to look yet again at the place near the book shelf, the spot she had been so intent on focusing on throughout the conversation. "Oh, don't look at me like that." She sighed, the grin disappearing. A strange light shined in the room, dimly and only noticeable to her as it slowly became the outline of a human figure. The angelic form carefully cloaking its true self from other humans that could have walked in accidentally and gotten an eyeful. Literally. Miss Fielding was different though, she continued to gaze at the glow because she knew her eyes would still be intact after seeing the pure power of the supernatural being, and her ears too at the sound of its voice. After all, she'd witnessed it before.

"That was not very nice of you." The light form simply breathed out the words in a, deep, almost magical voice as it spoke softly to her. The voice sounded as wonderful as always, helping to relax her tensed muscles, but on that day there was almost a trace of disappointment hidden amongst the syllables. She sighed, exasperated,

"She deserved it."

"She thinks she is helping."

"But I don't _need _any help." The angel, _her angel_, floated towards her so its form hung in the air in front of her seat. The outline much more sharp, easier to register. Its glowing face, clear now, held a hint of masculinity which was why she called it a he_,_ because Angels are, oddly, not blessed with a particular gender. The expression on his face was similar to a frown, and looked so human-like she nearly laughed all over again. Suddenly, he stroked a glowing hand through her locks of blonde hair, gazing at her almost lovingly.

She knew what this meant.

"You have to go." It was an observation, not a question, but the angel answered with a simple nod at her to say 'yes.' She sighed again unhappily. She hated it when he left, she felt empty and a little lost when he wasn't floating beside her like a guardian, unseen by everybody except her.

"They need me." He told her gently. "They are calling for me." She nodded sadly, looking away. She didn't want to see the stoic expression on his face, the same face that held a sense of one of the emotions she despised so much, pity; the one her friends wore when she told them about her parents divorce, the one her teachers wore at school when they pulled her out of class to tell her that her Dad was dead, the same one he was wearing now, and always wore, when he had to leave her for a while.

"Don't be too long Raphael."

"I will try not to be, Alli." With the last syllable of her name spoken, there was a brief sound of wings fluttering. The flapping momentum of his wings lifted up pieces of paper and swirled them around the room slightly. His exit wasn't hurried so he didn't leave an obvious mess behind for Alli to try and explain. As soon as the sound of wings was no longer echoing in her ears, and her hair no longer flowing around her face, she was truly alone and to Alli…

That was the worst thing in the whole world.


End file.
